


Weird

by fanfiction_trashpile



Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:07:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22093831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanfiction_trashpile/pseuds/fanfiction_trashpile
Summary: The fluffy beginnings of your relationship with Malcolm.
Relationships: Malcolm Bright/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 79





	1. 1

“Why did you let him come in there with you, without a gun?” You yell at Dani, shaking your head.

“As if he has ever listened to me.” She looks at the floor, wringing her hands, “I couldn’t stop him. He was there when I showed up.” 

Malcolm took it upon himself to confront the prime suspect of a string of murders without telling anyone where he was. Dani was heading over to talk to the suspect at the same time, thankfully, or he may not have made it out alive.

You and Dani have been sitting in Malcolm’s apartment, waiting for his mother to bring him home from the hospital. 

The door squeals open and you both jump up, your hand sliding to your gun. 

You recognized Jessica’s voice and run to the door. 

He has his arm draped over her shoulders, and they are struggling to come up the stairs into the flat.

“Did you get him?” Malcolm croaks and you run down the stairs to him. 

“That’s what you’re concerned about?” You take his weight from his mother, almost carrying him up his stairs. 

Dani grabs his other side, helping you maneuver him to his bed. 

“Bedrest for 3 days for the concussion. After that, physio for the broken arm.” Jessica states. 

“You’re lucky it wasn’t worse.” You can’t stop yourself, “You could have been shot. You could be dead.” Now that you’ve seen that he’s going to be okay, it’s hard not to yell at him. 

“Did you get him?” He looks to Dani now. 

“No. We didn’t get him.” She says, her shoulders turning inwards. “I gave up my position and he ran.” 

Once Malcolm is propped up in bed, you gently grab the sides of his face and force him to look at you, “If you ever do that again, I will kill you myself. Clear?” 

“Okay, okay.” He tries to grin, but seems to wince in pain. 

“What hurts?” 

He lets out a tight laugh, “Everything.” 

“He broke his arm and a few ribs.” Jessica calls from the kitchen.

“Dumbass.” You drop your head to his collarbone. 

Dani moves to step out of the room, “We should be getting back.” 

“I’m staying.” You rest a gentle hand on Malcolm’s knee. “If you need anything, call. I can work from here.” 

“Sure. I’ll tell Gil you’re taking the rest of the day off.” 

You settle into a chair in his kitchen, making small talk with Jessica as she finished her drink and says her goodbyes to her son. 

Once you hear the door firmly close, you round on Malcolm, “Bright, your mom is weird.” 

“Dad is weirder. Promise.” You can see him smiling, and it warms your heart. 

You cross the room and sit on the end of his bed. Even covered in scrapes and bruises, he looks incredibly handsome. 

He wrinkles his nose, and you giggle, “I hate the smell of hospital.” 

That’s unsurprising, “Makes sense.” You pause, “Where do you have stitches?” 

“Just in my arm and my face.” He gestures to his elbow, covered in gauze and wrapped in a loose sling. “Why?” 

“Want to shower?” 

“I can’t get wet.”

“You can’t get your stitches wet. The rest of you isn’t a problem.” 

“It’s fine.” 

“Malcolm.” 

“I would… I would need help.” He seems to flush at the idea. 

“It’s just you and I here. I can help you.” Don’t make this weird. This isn’t weird.

He grins, “Is this how you plan to get me undressed for you?” 

“God, no, I just…” Your face suddenly feels very warm and the walls seem to close in on you. 

He smiles shyly, “I’m kidding. That would actually be… uh…. Good.” 

“Okay.” Okay. We can do this. We can figure this out. 

Standing, you ask, “Where’s the bathroom?” And with his directions, leave to start the water and get a garbage bag. 

Start the water. Hot, but not too hot. No bath. Okay, we can work with this. He can use one arm right? You don’t need to… Yeah. Yeah this is fine. This can work. Why is this weird? 

You look at yourself in the mirror. This is fine. This is not weird. You’re just feeling weird because he almost died. 

After fetching a garbage bag from the kitchen and tossing it on the counter, you return to Malcolm’s bedside. 

You help him sit up and swing his legs to the side of the bed, where he states, “I can probably stand on my own.” before shooting to his feet and toppling into you. 

“Just a head rush. ‘Mm fine.” He coughs.

“Yeah, okay, Bright.” 

The two of you shuffle, linked together, to the bathroom. You reach for the bag you grabbed, open it and wrap his arm, careful not to lift his elbow too high. 

“Keep the stitches dry. Smart.” He nods at the idea. 

His praise brings a smile to your face.

“My mom did this to my ankle when I broke it in grade 3. Slightly easier, cause we had a tub, but same idea.”

You give him a hand in getting his socks and shoes off, and then stand awkwardly as he shrugs off his shirt. Shaking your head at yourself, you turn around and allow him to get into the shower. 

“Think you’ve got it?” You call over your shoulder, hearing the glass door swing shut.

He takes a moment to answer, “Probably.” 

“I’ll stay here just in case, then.” You sit on the counter. 

“No looking.” He jokes. 

Even still, you do your best to avert your eyes from the very obviously naked man in the shower 2 feet from you. 

The shampoo bottle hitting the tile floor has you jumping to your feet. 

“Sorry.” You can see Malcolm shaking his head through the steamed glass. 

“All good.” 

You move to resume your perch on the counter before he says, “Uh… I don’t think I can bend over.” 

The both of you giggling at the awkwardness of the situation seems to ease some of the tension. You take a deep inhale of the humid air as you open the shower door, leaning down to get the bottle and putting it back on the inlaid side of the wall, keeping your eyes on the ground the whole time. 

He giggles to himself and before you can ask him, you feel hot water hit the back of your neck. 

“Bright!” You stand up, backing into the shower to get out of the way of the water stream as he laughs. 

His smile and the soap suds sliding down the side of his face give him the air of a child (ignoring everything else below the neck, of course). 

“Since you’re already in here, can you help with my hair? My arms are kinda heavy.” The shy smile is back and you flush. 

“Yeah… yeah sure.” You step forward, doing your best of keep your legs out of the shower head’s range. 

He puts his head back in the stream and you reach up, rinsing his thick hair. His eyes fall closed and you watch him relax. The calm that comes across his features turns something in your chest. 

His eyes open and your lips part as you stare into them. “Clean?” 

“Think so.” You pull your eyes away from him and leave the shower, grabbing a towel for him. 

Strangely, the sight of him wrapped in a towel is almost more stirring than being in the shower with him. Now, you can look at him fully without fear. 

Yeah, this is worse. Definitely worse. 

Guiding him back to bed, you unwrap the plastic from his arm. “You okay to get dressed on your own?” 

“If you can open that drawer?” He gestures, and you lean across him to help. “Thanks.” 

“Sure.” 

You leave him to it, needing to put as much distance between yourself and this confusion. This can’t be weird. 


	2. 2

It had been 2 days since the shower incident with Malcolm. That’s what you’d taken to calling it, anyways. It’s better than ‘the moment you realized you were in love with the profiler’, anyways. He hadn’t been back in the office given the concussion, and JT and Dani had been taking turns checking in on him. The fool refuses to take care of himself on a good day, so you’d all taken to surprising him at random intervals to ensure that he was actually following concussion protocol. Whatever that is. 

Today is your turn. 

You grabbed a key from Dani when her shift with him was over, so you let yourself into his apartment.

It’s dark, which is good. That’s what the doctor said, right? But you hear some sound coming from upstairs. It’s… well, it sounds like porn. 

Fuck this plan, Dani. 

You stand in the dark, evaluating your options. Do you go up the stairs and scold him for using a screen when he had been expressly told not to? Do you leave and pretend that you hadn’t been here, to avoid the awkwardness of finding him like… that? 

He makes a sound. 

Oh dear lord… 

“Bright?” You shout before you can chicken out and leave.

Whatever you had heard get paused. “Um… hi?” 

“I’m here to check on you.” You start up the stairs.

He sounds nervous, “Well, come on up then.” 

“You know you aren’t supposed to be watching tv, right?” Please be tv. Please. 

“I’m listening to it. Is that bad?” He is sitting in bed, remote in hand. The tv in his living room is turned to a movie you’ve never seen before, but that seems to be all it is.

You thank the lord that it’s just a movie, and he seems to be fully clothed. At least, from what you can see above the blankets. 

“I don’t know. I’m not a doctor.” You roll your eyes at yourself, crossing the room to get a better look at him. 

His bruising is worse, the dark blue and black patches covering his jaw, neck, and around his eyes darker than a few days prior. Even still, you feel your heart stutter in your chest. “How are you feeling?” You ask, hovering awkwardly at the entrance to his bedroom. 

“Like I got beat up and had my arm broken.” He chuckles, leaning back against the pillows. “Your garbage bag trick works like a charm though. I had a shower all by myself yesterday.” 

And now we’re thinking about him in the shower. Again. Great. 

“Oh that’s good.” You cough, trying to relieve the pressure of the lump that seems to have settled in your throat. 

“You okay?” He asks. You watch his eyes scan over you, reading you, profiling you…

“I’m fine. Sorry.” You cough once, lamely, hoping it might convince him. 

He lifts his good hand up to cover his eyes, “It was the shower thing, wasn’t it?” 

“What?” 

“When I asked you to help. That was… too much. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…” He shakes his head as be stutters. 

“Malcolm, no. No, its fine. I’m just…” 

His eyes snap to yours, “That’s the first time you’ve called me Malcolm.” 

“Uh… sorry?” 

“Don’t be.” His smile is so warm, you feel yourself relax into yourself. “You were going to say something. You’re just…” He prompts. 

“I’m just feeling weird about it for no reason but it’s not your fault.” The words fall from your lips before you can catch them. 

His face softens. “Want to explain?” 

Definitely not. “Not really.” You allow.

He sighs. “Sit?” 

You take a few steps into the room and perch on the end of his bed. He reaches for your hand, and you let him take it. 

“I’m sorry I put you in that situation.” You try to cut him, but he hold up a hand and continues, “I… I guess I liked the idea of you… taking care of me.” He struggles to meet your eyes, “I’m happy you’re here. I’m happy that I didn’t scare you off. I didn’t, did I?” 

“No, you didn’t.” You whisper.

“I don’t want to make things weird.” 

“Me neither.” 

You both pause, not meeting each other’s gaze. 

With a deep breath, he starts to ramble, “I’m going to make this weird. I’m happy you’re here, and I want you here all the time. You’re so smart and Gil loves you and that isn’t the meds talking, I promise, because I haven’t been taking them. It’s just me. Me and you and… I want you. To be around. Me. Please.” 

Your jaw drops a little, and he laughs. “Is that okay?” He asks. 

“So, it’s not the meds talking… The pain maybe?” 

“No.” He shakes his head. 

“Well, I… I want that too. When I thought you were’t going to make it…”  
  
“Dani told me. You were worried. But I thought maybe it was just cause ‘we’re all part of the team’.” 

“Then you need to get a new job. If you couldn’t tell I was worried because of my feelings for you, how are you supposed to catch sociopaths?” you both laugh. 

The shy look is back on his face, “When I’m better and I’m allowed to leave this place, can we go for dinner? I know we’ve sort of skipped the ‘getting to know each other’ phase, but I’m bad at this whole dating thing and I want to do this right.” 

“Yeah, okay.” you can’t keep a smile off your face. 

“Can I… can I kiss you?” he asks. 

You nod, moving forward and brushing your lips against his softly, trying not to hurt him. He leans in, tugging gently at your bottom lip with his teeth. Wincing at the effort, he moves back, chuckling and muttering, “Sorry.” 

“Don’t be.” With your free hand, you touch his cheek. 

He pushes aside the cord for one of his restraints and pats the bed, so you scoot into place next to him, leaning back against headboard. He tucks himself under your chin and you wrap your arms around him, pulling him close. “Your heart is beating really fast.” 

“Shush.” You kiss the top of his head. 

“Can I turn my movie back on?” he murmurs. 

You laugh, “Did the doctor say you could?” 

He grabs the remote and turns on the tv, cuddling into you. “Not listening again. Gotcha.” 

Malcolm looks up at you, a dark look in his eyes, “I would listen to you.” 

You laugh through the tension, face warm, “Maybe when you’re better.” 

He seems to laugh with you, but your curiosity nags at you. Another time, maybe. 


	3. 3

Dinner date? With Malcolm Bright? How the fuck did this happen? 

You were meeting at 7. No one on the team knew. If Dani knows, JT knows, and if JT knows, everyone knows. How do you explain that to Gil? ‘Hey. I know Malcolm is your adopted son and you took me in but just so you know we’re going out now.’ Like that is going to end well. 

You’re going somewhere casual-ish. That’s all the information you have, except the address. You get home with enough time to change out of your work clothes, and grab a cab to the address he had texted you.

Copper lights are strung across the wood panelled ceiling. The small building has three levels, with a spiral staircase in the very centre. Everything smells like warmth and gravy. 

The hostess asks, “How many will be joining us tonight?”

You run a hand through your hair, “Um… I’m not sure if my date made a reservation?” 

“Mr Whitly?” she smiles. When you nod, she motions for you to follow her, “Right this way.” 

The crowd is mixed. Families, older couples, a few very overdressed businessmen sit at the bar on the far side. 

Malcolm stands when we sees you, nearly toppling the table in the process. His arm is out of the sling, his long sweater rolled up to the elbow to account for the cast encircling his forearm and wrist. 

As good as that man looks in a suit, he’s still a dreamboat dressed down. 

“Hey.” his voice is soft. 

You smile, “Hi.” and settle into your chair. 

“How was your day?” 

The evening passes in a blur. Things with him are so comfortable. Like this isn’t a first date. Both your hands shake and he is clumsy in his cast. You playfully steal a carrot off his plate. Malcolm spills drop of wine on the brown table cloth. Your stomach aches from the good food and laughter. 

As you finish your last bites of dessert, you say, “That was so good. Oh my actual god.” 

“My mother loves this place. It was going to go under a few years ago, so she’s paid their rent for the next 30 years or something crazy. They don’t usually take reservations, but…” he looks around, and you see what almost looks to be pride on his face. 

“Well, I’m happy you brought me here.” you smile, “Tonight was really great.” 

“I’m glad.” 

He pays the check up front (”It’s 2019. We can split it.” you argued, only to be rebuffed with, “I invited you out. I get to treat.”) and you step out into the cold night air. 

You hop a cab and Malcolm gives the driver your address. You raises an eyebrow, and he explains, “You’re closer. I can walk from yours.” 

You both settle into the back. Malcolm reaches across the middle seat, holding his hand out for you to grab. It shakes slightly. 

Taking it, you squeeze his hand twice. He grazes his thumb across the back of your hand, sending shivers down your spine. 

The ride isn’t long enough. 

You could sit here for hours, listening to the radio turned way down low, holding hands with this incredibly awkward, handsome, lovely man. 

Malcolm pays the cabbie and helps you out of the car. “You can come up and we can watch a movie, if you want?” You suggest. He wiggles his eyebrows at you, to which you respond, “No funny business. I just… I don’t want to be done seeing you.” 

“I should be getting home.” 

You smile, “Next time.” 

His face lights up, “Next time? I’m getting a next time?” he hugs you tightly with his good arm, whispering, “Yay.” into your hair. 

“The whole ‘waiting three days to call’ seems overrated.” 

He leans back, pressing his forehead to yours. His breath is warm on your face, “Very overrated. Can I see you tomorrow? Movie night? Maybe not tomorrow. That’s too soon. The day after tomorrow?” he rambles. 

“Sure. The day after tomorrow.” 

He kisses you, his lips gently but his hands holding you tight, as if you might slip through his fingers. “I like you. A lot.” 

You kiss him again, “I like you too.” 

“I’ll see you tomorrow. At work. Where we will have to keep this a secret.” He grins, “Should be fun.” He lets you go, and you start up the steps to your building. 

“Goodnight, Malcolm.” you call as he begins his journey down the street. 

“Goodnight!” he calls over his shoulder, almost skipping down the sidewalk. 


	4. 4

You wake early, head still spinning from last night. Rolling out of bed, you check the time and quickly get dressed, not wanting to be late. Looks like breakfast to go.

Your cab gets stuck in traffic, but you manage to get in on time.

Malcolm is sat at your desk, looking annoyingly attractive as ever, with two coffees and two sandwiches on the table, “Morning! Breakfast?” his eyes light up when he sees you, sending a wave of butterflies through you.

“You’re awfully chipper.” You remark. Play it off. Play it off. Act like nothing’s different.

“Why, yes I am!” he winks, “Guess I had a good night.”

“What happened to keeping this a secret?” you say through gritted teeth.

He shrugs, “Subtly isn’t my strong suit.” and waltz’s away.

He is handsome. Adorable. Sweet. But he is going to get the two of you into so much trouble. This is not going to go well.

You see Dani eyeing you and wave, diving into your bagel and the files on your desk.

There’s suddenly a hand on your shoulder.

“Do you have a sec?” It’s Dani.

Oh shit.

She doesn’t give you much choice, dragging you out of your chair and pulling you into the break room by your wrist, “So how was your date?” she asks, closing the door.

You almost choke, feeling your face redden, “Uh… what date?”

“Your date with Bright?” She laughs, “Come on. Give it up. It doesn’t take a cop to figure out that you two went out, probably last night? You were acting weird yesterday, but not _this_ weird.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You try to push past her but she stops you.

“You don’t have to tell me, but you have to be a little more subtle. Gil will be up your ass if he notices.”

You shake your head, “Yeah, okay.”

“So I was right!” She shouts, jumping around the room.

You clamber to grab her wrist and keep her from making more of a scene than she already has. “How did it go? Are you going out again? Wait. Of course you are. You’re practically swooning over each other. What did you do?” She gasps, suddenly lowering her voice to a whisper, “Did you sleep with him?!”

“Dani, no, no, stop.” You laugh, “It went well. We had dinner. No, I didn’t _sleep with him._ ”

“Why not?” She whisper-screeches, “Have you seen him?” Her eyes go wide, “You’ve probably seen too much of him.”

“Oh my god Dani!” you cover your face with your hands, trying to hide your embarrassment from the world.

“I actually don’t want to know. Anyways. Anyways.” She takes a deep breath, “Just, be careful, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, and calm down. You don’t want Gil—”

“Up my ass. Got it.” You shake your head, “Can I leave now?”

“No. Why didn’t you tell me?” she whines.

“The plan…” you glare at Bright through the glass, “…was to keep this a secret.”

“Well, you blew that. Okay. You can go.” She opens the door for you, bowing slightly, and you brush past her, trying to get to your desk before…

“So, what was all that?”

JT.

“Nothing.” You don’t even look at him, heading straight for your desk.

“’Nothing’ has never made you act this weird, but whatever you say.” His singsong tone elicits yet another eye roll.

How the fuck are you supposed to get through the rest of your day without Gil noticing?


	5. 5

Somehow, you and Malcolm made it through the past two days without anyone else confronting you. You’re not sure if it’s on threat from Dani or not, but you are grateful for it either way. As much as you tried to keep the flirty glances to a minimum, your eyes are drawn to him (and it seems he’s having the same problem, as you’ve caught him staring more times than he’s caught you). 

Tonight, he’s coming over to yours. You made sure to stock up on snacks after work, and you were chilling in comfy pants on your couch when your buzzer rang. 

  
After checking to make sure that it was, in fact, Malcolm, you let him up, and goddamn if the man doesn’t look hot as hell in sweatpants. 

He greets you with a kiss, humming low as he pulls away, “I have wanted to do that every second of the last 48 hours.”

You blush, not knowing how to respond, so you take his hand and guide him to your couch. “Netflix?” 

He nods and grabs the remote, scrolling through your recently watched. After he’s gone through the cycle twice, he says, “I have to be honest. I have no idea what any of this is.” 

You throw your head back with a laugh, “Okay, okay. Are we looking for a drama? Something light?” 

“Something light.” he echos.

“Okay… comedy special or tv show?” 

He looks up at you through his long eyelashes, “Maybe we could start a tv show together? Watch it when we hang out?”

Grinning, “Sure.”

You scan through the titles, “The Office, Brooklyn 99…” 

“The image on that one is cool.” He waves his hand at the screen, “The 99 one.”

“We are cops. And we are going to watch a show about cops.”

“You are a cop.” he corrects, grinning mischievously. 

You roll your eyes and click on the pilot, marvelling at how much easier it is to pick something to watch with him than it is with your mom.

As the intro plays, you find yourself looking over at him. When you had first sat down, you had a couple feet between you. You were now right up next to him with his hand on your thigh, sending goosebumps and butterflies across your skin and through your body. This man…

You see a small smile cross his lips, and his blue eyes meet yours, “Are you watching the show?” 

“I’m kind of enjoying the view I’ve got right now.” You flinch at your own words, “Wow. That was so cheesy. That was bad. Wow. Very bad.” You makes some unintelligible noise, “Let’s pretend that didn’t happen.” You turn your burning face back to the television screen. 

He pecks your cheek, whispering, “Pretend what didn’t happen? Nothing happened.” 

At some point you grabbed popcorn, and you find yourself snacking away, already on episode 4, sinking further into the couch and his arms. 

He kisses your forehead and puts two fingers under your chin to lift your face to his, “We’ve got the Netflix part down. Isn’t there something we’re missing? The… ‘chill’?” you roll your eyes and laugh as he explains, “You can thank Dani for that one.” 

“I could use some chill.” You swing yourself onto his lap, straddling him, and kiss him hard. 

His fingertips tuck under the hem of your shirt to draw small circles on your skin as your lips move fast on each other’s. Your hands tangle in his hair, pulling him closer still. 

When you pull away to breath, gasping, his pupils are blown wide. 

“I really like you.” he murmurs. 

Blushing, “I really like you too.” 

You kiss him again, softer this time. 

“Wanna get back to the show?” you ask. 

He nods and allows you to get off him, not hiding the obvious effect that you’ve had on him (which is really really difficult to ignore, but you do your best). 

You slide next to him, moving his arm to tuck yourself into his side. The show is still playing and you’re lost on the plot, but being close to Malcolm is enough. 

He shakes you away sometime later, “It’s late.” 

“How long was I asleep?” you yawn. 

He smiles, touching your face gently, “A little while. You’re really cute. I couldn’t bring myself to wake you. But I should go.”

“You could stay?” the look on his face makes you want to swallow your words, “I mean, if you don’t want to that’s fine…” 

Malcolm pulls you to your feet and presses his lips to yours, “I would love to. But I can’t. I don’t want to hurt you if… if I have a nightmare and I’m not restrained.” He can’t meet your eyes.

“Hey. It’s okay. We can work around that.” 

“I just…” he lets you go, crumpling onto the couch. 

You sit next to him, wrapping your arms around him, “It’s okay.” 

“I want to be with you.” He whispers, so quiet you almost don’t hear him, “It’s just… hard. And I haven’t ever really been in a relationship because of it and this is moving so fast and I don’t want this to go wrong because I’m inexperienced and—”

You cut him off, “Malcolm. It’s okay. We can figure this out. This _is_ only our second date.” 

“I know. I know. I just don’t want you to put all this effort in and be disappointed.” He looks up at you, “I’m not normal. I’m never going to be normal.”

“Malcolm,” you interrupt, “I like you. _You._ I want to figure this out.” You gaze into his eyes, looking for some sign that he understands. When they soften, you say, “Stay for a little while longer? Just until you’re feeling better.” 

“Okay.” He kisses you, long and slow, and you don’t ever want him to stop.


End file.
